


Don't Worry (About It)

by Hcpelesshcney



Series: Snow Days verse [1]
Category: Andi Mack (TV)
Genre: Assumed Unrequited Love, Crushes, Hot Chocolate, M/M, Snow, jonah beck is really only mentioned briefly, minor rule breaking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-06-07 19:12:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15225993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hcpelesshcney/pseuds/Hcpelesshcney
Summary: Cyrus glances at the clock, 6:45. If he walked fast enough, he could get to The Spoon by 7. What his parents didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them, right? After all, it’s just for a cup of hot cocoa.





	Don't Worry (About It)

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so listen... This fic got wayyyy out of hand and way longer than I anticipated it being, but ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 
> 
> This is truly more self-indulgent than anything else, but enjoy! Snow storms and accidental dates and our boys being soft. 
> 
> I might make this into a two-part thing if people want that?? Idk but if you liked it please feel free to leave comments and kudos! 
> 
> You can also find me over on tumblr! My user is @[heartlessromantik](http://heartlessromantik.tumblr.com). come rant about these losers with me!!
> 
> "You walked here in a blizzard to get your hot chocolate but you forgot your wallet at home, here, let me buy your drink for you." AU

     The snow started falling during third period. It wasn’t the first snow of the season, but it still managed to capture the attention of all the students in Jefferson Middle School. With only nine days left before winter break, it wasn’t too much of a stretch to say that they were looking for reasons to not do any form of school work. After a brief announcement over the loud speaker, the students were released early to lunch, under the guise that school itself would be getting out early, due to a projected snow storm hitting during sixth period.

 

     “Are you still coming over after school?” Andi asked, setting her tray down before dropping herself onto the bench of an empty table. Buffy sits beside her, then pushes her backpack towards the other side of the table, saving a seat for Cyrus and Jonah, who were still in line for lunch.

 

     “I’ll have to check with my dad,” Buffy reaches over and steals an apple slice from her tray, “I forgot to ask yesterday.”

 

     “Buffyyyy, we’ve been planning this since last Tuesday.”

 

     “I know, I know, things have just been.... crazy, at home.” Buffy’s voice wavers as she thinks about the call she and her father had gotten over the weekend, telling them her mother’s deployment had been extended for another two months. Which meant that they’d be spending Christmas apart. Again.

 

     Andi’s face visibly softens, and she slings an arm over her best friend’s shoulder, pulling her close. “It’s okay,” she says, letting Buffy rest their heads together, “Just text me next class if you can. I’ll let Bex know on the way home.”

 

     Cyrus bounds over then, Jonah following a step and a half behind.

 

     “I can’t believe they ran out of the vegan chili again.  _Again_!” Cyrus huffs, handing Buffy her bag back so he could set his tray down.

 

     Buffy laughs at that, a soft thready sound, “No kidding, since I’m pretty sure you’re the  _only_  person who actually likes it.”

 

     Cyrus presses a hand to his chest, ever dramatic, “I will have you know that the vegan chili from JMS is _to die for_.”

 

     Andi and Buffy look at each other, a quick _No it’s not_ that they didn’t want to share out loud, because they knew it would just send Cyrus into a spiral. Jonah breaks in, saying something about not being able to make it to Andi’s house after school, because his parents wanted him home to help with his younger siblings while they went shopping for Christmas presents.

 

     The frown on Andi’s face lasts for less than a second before she turns to Cyrus, “What about you? Can you still come by? It’ll just be me and Buffy since Jonah can’t make it.”

 

     Cyrus grimaces, suddenly very interested in the portion of corn kernels on his tray. “Actually...”

 

     Andi’s face falls again, but she quickly gathers herself together, trying not to be too hurt, “You can’t come.”

 

     “I’m really sorry,” Cyrus says quickly, “It’s just that my dad and stepmom are out of town and my mom and stepdad have some company party to go to tonight and they don’t want me out during the storm.”

 

     Andi reaches across the table and pats his hand, “Cyrus, relax, it’s fine. We’ll just hang out some other time.”

 

     “Right, yeah. Some other time.”

 

* * *

 

     The house is empty when Cyrus gets home. The light on the answering machine in the living room is blinking orange, so Cyrus hits the play button, only half-listening when he sets his backpack down and curls up on the couch.

 

     “Hey, Cy, it’s Mom,” of course it is. His mom never seems to remember that he has a cell phone that she can call. Or better yet, text. “Sorry your stepdad and I had to leave so early. The snow really threw a wrench into our driving plans.” Her laugh rings out through the room, tinny and high.

 

     “We’ll be back late, so don’t wait up okay? Dinner is in the fridge, just pop it in the oven for ten minutes at 350, okay? Call if you need anything. We love you! Mwah.” Cyrus assumes she was blowing him a kiss, and it helps, a little, to push back some of the loneliness he felt at being on his own. He should have just gone to Andi’s.

 

     Like clockwork, at 5:30 Cyrus is heating up the oven. He calls Buffy and Andi over FaceTime, and they answer on the second ring.

 

     “Cyrus! Hey!” The pair of them crowd in, faces pressed together so they can both fit in the screen of Andi’s phone. They’re smiling, flour smeared over Andi’s cheek and dusted in Buffy’s hair.

 

     "Hey, guys.” Cyrus props his phone up against the fruit bowl on the kitchen counter so he can get the glass dish out of the fridge. “What’s up?”

 

     “We’re baking cookies!” Andi says, “Or, we’re trying to.”

 

     Buffy laughs, and the flour caught in her curls shifts across the screen. Cyrus smiles. “It would be easier if Bex didn’t keep trying to eat all the batter.”

 

     In the background, Cyrus can faintly make out Bex defending herself, which only makes him smile more. “I wish I was there.”

 

     “We wish you were here, too, Cy.” Andi assures him, “What are you doing?”

 

     “Oh,” he turns around, having just closed the oven and set the timer for ten minutes, “Warming up dinner. My parents had to leave earlier than they were planning because of the snow.”

 

     His friends frown. “So, wait, you’re home alone?” Andi looks worried, not liking when any of her friends have to be on their own.

 

     “Well, yeah, but it’s fine. I’ve done this before guy.”

 

     “Are you sure you don’t want us to come get you? I can have Bex call your mom and let her know you’re with us.”

 

     Cyrus shakes his head, “Nah, it’s really okay, I promise. Anyway, I should probably let you guys get back to baking. Save me some cookies!”

 

     Andi still doesn’t look convinced, but Buffy is already off screen, banging around in the tiny kitchen, so she can’t push the issue much more.

 

     “Okay,” she says finally, “I’ll try, but no promises.”

 

     When they hang up, Cyrus goes back to sitting in the living room. He turns on the TV, popping a copy of The Holiday into the DVD player. So what if he was a sucker for romantic comedies? It’s not like there was anyone to object to watching it.

 

     He eats his dinner in the living room, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. It’s not even 6:30 by the time he’s finished, but he’s lost interest in the movie and his friends stopped replying to his messages a little while earlier in favor of going outside to have a snowball fight in Andi’s yard. He cleans up the kitchen, straightens up the living room. And then his phone starts to ring.

 

     STEPDAD flashes across the screen, along with a picture of his parents, smiling and laughing with their heads bent together.

 

     “Hello?” Cyrus answers the call, phone tucked between his ear and his shoulder while he rummaged around the kitchen cabinets.

 

     “Cyrus, sweetie, how’re things going?” It’s his mom. She never called from her own phone, ever. “Have you eaten dinner yet?”

 

     “Yeah, Mom, I ate already.” Cyrus stops rummaging around, not finding the tin of hot chocolate powder. “Hey, do you know where the hot cocoa is? I thought we had some still.”

 

     “Oh, honey, we ran out the other day, remember? I’ll have to pick some up later.”

 

     “Oh, okay.”

 

     “Did you want some right now? I’m sorry, honey. I think there’s some apple cider packets in the drawer.”

 

     “No- no it’s okay. I’ll be fine.”

 

     “Okay, honey. Well, I just thought I’d check in. If you need anything, call okay, baby? We love you!”

 

     “Love you too, Mom. Bye.” Cyrus glances at the clock, 6:45. If he walked fast enough, he could get to The Spoon by 7. What his parents didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them, right? After all, it’s just for a cup of hot cocoa.

 

     Cyrus grabs his coat from the hall, pulls on his winter boots, and steps out into the snow. He locks the door behind him and pockets his keys. Tucking his nose into the collar of his coat, he starts walking.

 

* * *

 

     He had not planned on the snow picking up the minute he started walking. The wind whipped the already-fallen snow back up into the air, blurring Cyrus’ vision. He should have grabbed a scarf, or gloves, or both, because by the time he reaches The Spoon, he is absolutely freezing. Pulling the door open, he steps inside and blinks away the snowflakes that clung to his lashes. He takes a seat at an empty booth, blowing against his hands to warm them up again.

 

     A waitress brings over a menu, but Cyrus waves it off politely. “Just a hot cocoa, please.”

 

     The woman nods, tucking the menu back against her side and pulling out her notepad to scribble down his order. She walks away after that, and Cyrus turns to stare out the window. The snow is still coming down relentlessly, so much so that it looks like a blanket of white falling from the sky. He can’t help the tiny voice in his head that says he should have stayed home, because what if he gets trapped here? Or what if he gets lost on the way home? Or what if-

 

     “What did the snow ever do to you, Underdog?” A familiar voice breaks Cyrus out of his thoughts. He looks up, startled to see TJ Kippen standing in front of his table, dark blue beanie pulled down over his hair. Cyrus looks around him, expecting to see him with a group of his basketball friends, or his family. But it doesn’t obviously look like he’s with anyone around.

 

     “Oh, uh, nothing.” Cyrus stumbles over his words, and he winces, embarrassed. “I just wasn’t prepared for the whole... storm, I guess.”

 

     TJ looks him over, the corners of his mouth quirked up in a smirk that sets Cyrus’ heart on edge. “Obviously. Can I join you?”

 

     Cyrus isn’t able to say anything before the other boy sits down across from him, taking his beanie off and ruffling her hair. Cyrus frowns for a moment, but then the waitress is bringing his hot cocoa out to the table and TJ is firing off his own order, so he just sits and takes his drink, reveling in how the steam warms up his face just that bit more.

 

     “So, what are you doing here alone?” Cyrus finally asks, wiping at his mouth with napkin after taking a sip from his drink, “Don’t you usually have a gaggle of basketball lackeys to hang out with?”

 

     TJ laughs, and for reasons unknown, all Cyrus can think about is that he  _needs_  to get him to laugh again.  _“Lackeys._  C’mon, Cyrus, you’ve been spending too much time with Buffy.” He shakes his head, thanking the waitress when she brings out his order- a plate piled high with pancakes and whipped cream, and a side order of baby taters.

 

     The scrunched up face Cyrus makes at the order is enough to make the other boy laugh again. “What? They’re for you.”

 

     “What’s for me?” Cyrus wraps his hands around his mug again, the warm ceramic heating up his palms. It’s not quite uncomfortable yet, but it’s getting there. And the fact that his stomach keeps doing summersaults is  _not_  helping. _  
_

     “Those.” TJ nods at the basket of baby taters, pushing them towards Cyrus. “I mean, unless you... don’t want them?”

 

     Fighting the blush that’s rising up through his cheeks, Cyrus smiles, pulling the basket closer to his side of the table. “Thank you.”

 

     TJ nods, cutting into his stack of pancakes. “Why are  _you_  here alone? Shouldn’t Buffy and Andi be here with you?”

 

     Pulling a baby tater in half, Cyrus keeps his eyes trained on the table. “They, uh, don’t know I’m here. But it’s okay. They’re over at Andi’s right now baking cookies or playing in the snow or something.”

 

     “And you aren’t with them because- ?”

 

     “Well, both sets of my parents are busy tonight, so technically I’m supposed to be home because they don’t like when I’m out on my own. Especially with the weather being all wonky.”

 

     “But you’re out on your own. In a blizzard.”

 

     “Okay, yeah, but like it’s not that bad. Like it isn’t even really a _blizzard_. It’s just.... aggressively flurrying. And besides I’m just here for some cocoa and then I’ll go back home!”

 

     TJ raises an eyebrow, not saying anything for a minute. After a few too seconds of eye contact, he turns his attention back to his plate. Cyrus can’t figure out if his cheeks are really flushed pink, or if his eyes are playing tricks on him. Maybe his mind is just seeing what it wants to.

 

     “Hey, you never did answer my question.” Cyrus says around a mouthful of baby tater. TJ sets his fork down, leans back in his seat. Their feet knock together, and Cyrus pulls away so fast he ends up kicking the seat. Why was he so nervous and jumpy? This wasn’t any big thing. He was just.... hanging out. With TJ Kippen. In The Spoon, without any of his friends or family knowing where he was. Because of hot cocoa. So okay, maybe it was a big thing, and he was going to blame the butterflies in his stomach on the fact that he wasn’t supposed to be here at all. Not on the fact that TJ has whipped cream smeared on the side of his mouth and if Cyrus just reached across the table he could- no. _No_. Cyrus stops that thought in its tracks, just barely tuning back in to hear what TJ was talking about.

 

     “-no one wanted to walk with me. So, I’m here. With you.”

 

     Cyrus nods, “With me.”

 

     “Which is... nicer, actually. Honestly.” Well,  _that_  certainly wasn’t helping Cyrus get rid of his unappreciated nerves. But the smile that TJ gives him when he nods again is warm and open, and so different from the hotshot basketball player Cyrus saw around school that he never wanted it to end.

 

     The time passes without either of them noticing. They laugh and joke and steal food from each other's plates like this was a normal thing.  _Maybe it_ could _be a normal thing_ , Cyrus thought, watching TJ as he talks animatedly about some movie he wanted to go see that weekend. He talks with his hands a lot, Cyrus noticed. And his eyes lit up bright and happy when Cyrus would agree with something he was saying. 

 

     But, all good things come to an end. And in the next moment, the waitress is walking back to the table, clearing out the empty cups and baby tater basket. She brings back their checks, separate, and smiles brightly, letting them know they can pay at the counter.

 

     Cyrus reaches into his coat pocket for his wallet and- it’s empty. He turns both pockets inside-out, searches the inside secret pocket of his coat, pats his pants pockets. “Oh no. Oh no, oh no,  _oh no_.”

 

     “Woah, what’s wrong. Cyrus? What’s wrong.” TJ looks concerned, and he seems so sincere that it hurts. Like, it actually, physically, hurts to look at. Cyrus groans, melting against the booth.

 

     “I forgot my wallet at home.” He says, eyes trained on the ceiling. How could he have done this? Didn’t he check before he left the house? He never should have left the house.

 

     It’s quiet for a second, and then TJ starts laughing. It starts as a snicker, and then grows, and grows, until it ends with his covering his face while forcing himself to calm down and breathe.

 

    “What?” Cyrus asks, only a little bit hurt but more than completely confused, “TJ, what’s so funny?”

 

     “Cyrus, kid, you are so  _dramatic_.” He says, like that answers things. “Listen, how much is it? What, three bucks for the hot chocolate? Don’t worry about it.”

 

     Cyrus frowns, tapping his fingers against the table. He says, “What do you mean don’t worry about it? I can’t pay! They’re going to make me work it off and then I’ll be late getting back home and my mom with find out and I’ll get in so much trouble and- Oh my gosh I shouldn’t have left.”

 

     TJ laughs again, but stops himself before he spirals. “Cyrus, don’t worry about it. I’ve got this, okay? It’s fine.”

 

     What did he mean it’s fine? Nothing was- oh. TJ is pushing himself up out of the booth and, plucking Cyrus' receipt from his hands, walking towards the cash register before Cyrus can start rambling again. He’s stunned, kind of, to see TJ paying for their.... meal? Well, to see him paying for his hot cocoa, at least. Which he definitely didn’t have to do. Because it’s not like they were... anything.

 

     He comes back with two styrofoam to-go cups. “Hot chocolate, for the road.” He hands one to Cyrus, keeping the other for himself. Cyrus smiles, unable to keep the giddy feeling from bubbling up.

 

     “Thank you,” Cyrus says, “for everything.”

 

     “Aw, it’s not a big deal.” TJ replies, sitting back down. But he’s smiling, and when they make eye contact again he doesn’t immediately look away. What does that mean? What  _could_  it mean? “Hey, shouldn’t you be getting back?”

 

     Cyrus looks at the time on his phone, 8:30. He looks around at the emptying restaurant, then back at TJ. “Oh, shoot, yeah. It’s getting late and I have to get back before, y’know.”

 

     TJ nods, grabbing his beanie from the seat next to him and standing up. “Can I walk you home?”

 

     Cyrus balks, torn between being thrilled at the opportunity of not having to cut whatever they were doing short, and feeling bad for having the other boy go out of his way to take him home. “Oh, uh, it’s okay. You don’t have to. It’s like a fifteen minute walk.”

 

     “Cyrus, c’mon, it’s late and still snowing. What kind of friend would I be if I let you walk alone?”

 

     Cyrus couldn’t help but notice how TJ’s voice caught on the word ’friend,’ as if he wanted to say something else, but stopped himself before he could _. What if_? “Okay, sure. If you don’t mind.”

 

     TJ smiles again, and Cyrus is pretty sure he’s never seen him smile so much before. He let himself think for just a moment that he felt the same way, just because. But then he tucks the thought away and stands, shrugging his coat on and grabbing his cup. “Let’s go.”

 

* * *

 

     They spend the first five minutes walking in silence. Cyrus sneaks glances at TJ, noticing how his face turns rosy in the cold. He has a scarf wrapped around his neck, and that beanie pulled down over his hair, and was obviously much more prepared for the walk than Cyrus himself was. Part of him hopes he’ll catch TJ glancing back, but most of his mind knows he would  _die_  if that happened. At least, he’d be really embarrassed.

 

     “Here,” TJ says, breaking the silence. Cyrus startles when he hands him his beanie, without prompting. They stop walking, beneath a barren tree whose branches stretch out from behind someone’s fence.

 

     “What’s this for?” Cyrus doesn’t take it, but rather looks from TJ’s offered beanie to his face, and his hair that’s sticking up in every direction, which is admittedly kind of funny. _And cute._  Cyrus thinks, _Oh n_ _o_. 

 

     TJ shrugs, “You’re shivering, Cyrus.” He doesn’t wait for Cyrus to respond before he sets the beanie on his head, pulling the fabric down over his ears. They’re standing so close, and TJ is being so careful, that Cyrus can’t help but note how intimate the moment is. He feels his face turning red, and is very  _very_  thankful that he can blame it on the cold _._

     “There, better.” TJ looks at him so softly that it makes his chest ache. Did guy friends usually act like this with each other? Cyrus didn’t really know. Jonah never stood this close. But then, Jonah was... a whole different problem on his own. And his relationship with Andi and Buffy was so different from this. They were always hanging on each other. Maybe this was like that? Maybe TJ was just being nice and Cyrus was reading too far into this. He made a mental note to ask them about all of it later.

 

     They start walking again, this time chattering about anything and everything. Just to pass the time. When they finally get to Cyrus’ house, he hesitates before opening the door.

 

     “Thank you,” He says, turning to face his friend, “for walking me home. And for paying for my cocoa. Which I’ll totally pay you back for. And, y’know, for just spending time with me. When you didn’t have to.”

 

     TJ runs a hand through his hair, melting the snowflakes that had gotten caught in the strands on the walk. “No problem, Underdog. Really, don’t worry about it.” They’re both quiet for a moment, and TJ keeps his eyes trained on their feet when he speaks again, “It was nice, being able to hang out with you. Without worrying about everyone else.”

 

     Without worrying about everyone else? What on earth did _that_ mean? “Y’know, you can hang out with me at school, too, right? I’m sure Andi and Buffy wouldn’t mind.” Cyrus doesn’t add that he wished he didn’t feel like they were sneaking around and stealing time. After all, it’s not like they’re in some Romeo and Juliet situation. But, if they were, he would definitely be Juliet. Geez.

 

     TJ scoffs, and it hurts to hear, just a little bit. “Please, Cyrus, you know Buffy would have a fit if I sat with you at lunch.”

 

     Cyrus frowns, noticing how TJ was starting to close himself off again. Maybe he shouldn’t have brought up hanging out at school. “She wouldn’t, as long as you apologized.”

 

     TJ blinks, and Cyrus curses his brain for noticing how the snowflakes cling to his lashes.  _Really_  not the right time for that. “I already tried that, remember?”

 

     "Well- yeah I know that, but you could try again? And... mean it this time?" Is he just imagining the hurt look that flashes over TJ's face? He probably is... Right?

 

     "Keep dreaming, Underdog."

 

     Cyrus closes his eyes then, shocked by how disappointed he felt. Maybe TJ was right. Maybe he never should have said anything at all. When he opens his eyes, TJ is staring at him, and Cyrus mentally groans because  _how_  can he focus on just being friends with this boy when he looks at him like  _that_? All soft and brooding and so completely real that it aches. He really has no reason to be looking at him like that. _None_ , _thank_ _you_.

 

     TJ steps forward, just a bit, and Cyrus’ brain screams  _kiss me!_ And the thought is so sudden and unexpected that he freezes. Everything just goes blank, and for a second it  _really_ seems like he’s going to. But then a car drives past them on the street, and they step apart; Cyrus backing right into the still-closed door, TJ tripping down the single cement step.

 

     “I’ll, uh, see you later, Underdog.” TJ says, and he’s turning around and walking away too quick for Cyrus to respond. When he does, he’s talking to open air.

 

     “Right, later.” Cyrus unlocks the door and goes inside, stripping his boots and coat in the hallway before going up the stairs to his bedroom. He throws himself on the bed, face first, and groans into his mountain of pillows.

 

     Fishing around for his phone, he blindly dials a number and waits for it to ring.

 

     “Cyrus? Are you okay? It’s like 9 o’clock.” Andi sounds worried, and he can  _see_  her eyebrows knitting together even though it’s just a phone call. “Cyrus? Hello? You there?”

 

     Bringing the phone up to his ear, Cyrus rolls over, eye closed tight. “Guys, I’ve got a problem.”

 

     It’s Buffy who answers, “What? What’s going on?”

 

     “I think I have a crush on TJ Kippen.”

 

     In the background, Cyrus hears Buffy scream.


End file.
